


Justified

by fixitforme



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:34:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixitforme/pseuds/fixitforme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how the two hitmen came to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Denver, CO. 1987._

 

Adam Kaiser, at the age of eight, already felt he had an amazing life. Though he had never met his father, he never felt the need to. He never experienced a sense of loss without him; he had a loving, doting mother and a supportive older brother.

His brother, Alexander, is six years his elder. He’s rambunctious and stalky for his age, with curly black hair that nearly every woman in sight gushes over. Adam has heard that Alex looks like their father, and each time someone mentions this Alex gives them a nasty sneer. Because of this, Adam has never decided to make a judgment on whether his brother really does look like their father.

It’s December in Denver, rapidly approaching the new year. The air is harsh and biting, yet Adam is running circles around his brother, happily tossing his baseball into his glove as they approach their neighborhood park. The treetops glitter with new fallen snow as the sun’s rays beat down on them.

“I’m not going to spend all day out here, Adam. I’m freezing already.”

Adam huffs and throws his baseball as hard as he can into his brother’s awaiting glove. From inside the small tunnel in the playground adjacent to the small field the boys are playing on, a small boy watches their every move. He’s frail and malnourished; his jean jacket not heavy enough for the cold weather. His teeth chatter as his eyes follow the baseball being tossed between the two brothers. Something about the two of them interests him. It could be the fact that he hasn’t seen any sort of human interaction in weeks.

He crawls forward on his hands and knees toward the tunnel’s opening to get a better look. The smaller boy is laughing. It looks as though it would make such a sweet sound. If only he could hear it. He reaches into his pocket, running his icy fingers along the laces of his own baseball, contemplating on joining them. He doesn’t.

After minutes of watching the two lob the ball at one another, the brothers turn to leave. The boy panics for a moment and springs out from the secrecy of his tunnel. He doesn’t give much thought to what he does next. He follows them.

………………………...

Heath Wallace trudges down the empty neighborhood street far behind the boys he’d seen sat the park. He kicks at the black slush along the curb. What once was beautiful white snow had been run down by tires and exhaust, leaving the nasty charcoal color. He’s delighted when it falls into the street and melts. His head jerks to the right when the boys run up a driveway ahead of him. They pile inside the small home and shut the door without a glance behind them.

Heath pouts for a moment, but then digs into his pocket for his baseball. Perhaps one of the boys will come out to play if they see him outside. He throws his ball up into the air, wincing at the painful sting the ball brings when it lands back in his numb hands. He looks both ways and edges closer to their home. He throws the ball far ahead of him so he can run through their yard to retrieve it. What he doesn’t expect is for the ball to disappear over the fence.

………………………..

Adam jumps at the loud bang that resonates from the wooden fence outside. He hops up from his bed and runs to his window, finding a small baseball sitting in the grass. Curious he hustles back downstairs and out the door leading to their back yard to investigate. Where could it have come from? He plucks the ball from the ground and jerks their back gate open, leading to the front yard.

He spots a small figure hiding (or rather _attempting_ to hide) behind a row of bushes in the small garden pathway near their porch. With the figure’s back to him, Adam stifles a laugh and tiptoes closer.

“Hey!”

No response. Adam frowns and tries to shout again, but once more there is no response. Finally, Adam taps them on the shoulder, sending the small figure into a fit of hysterics. He scurries out of his hiding place and covers his ears as though he were preparing to be shouted at.

“Is this yours?” Adam holds out the worn baseball in his hand. The boy nods and moves slowly to reclaim it.

“I’m Adam. What’s your name?”

The boy blinks in response. He digs into his pocket and eventually fishes out a small, ballpoint pen. He takes Adam’s hand gently and scribbles as best as he can: _Heath._ Adam stares at his hand, then back at the boy before saying the name aloud.

“How old are you?”

Heath holds up seven fingers. Adam cocks his head to the side, not sure what to make of this intruder. His clothes are tattered and old; one of his shoes has a large hole in the toe, revealing a dirty sock. Despite this, Adam smiles.

“Can’t you talk?”

Heath looks startled again. He takes the pen once more and writes underneath where he put his name: _Deaf._ He looks so ashamed to admit this that Adam almost wishes he hadn’t asked. Adam points at the ball in Heath’s pink hands and then backs away until he’s at a respectful distance. When he stops moving, he points to his own palm. Heath smiles broadly, causing his chapped lips to crack. He doesn’t mind. He’s finally made a friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for child abuse

Adam and Heath create a strict schedule during the beginning of their friendship. At around midday, Heath would wander from his home to the familiar path toward his friend’s home. He wears the same outfit each day: his torn up shoes with the hole in the toe, a pair of jeans now too short on his long, skinny legs, and his jean jacket covered in patches and buttons from other cities. Adam will offer Heath lunch which the younger boy will pretend to refuse but will eat anyway. Then the two will play catch outside until the sun starts to set. At which point, Heath will wave goodbye and sprint home. This happens for weeks until Heath begins to look healthy and a bit rounder in the middle.

Then Adam attempts to change things. He asks his mother if he could have a friend over for dinner. She agrees, on the condition that it’s the one that has been eating all her food. Adam smiles happily and assures her that it is.

It’s late in the afternoon and the boys have taken a break from playing catch and the occasional wrestling on the front lawn. They’re sitting on top of Adam’s brick mailbox, doing their best to communicate with each other. Heath is doing something odd with his hands, trying to explain himself, but ends up writing on Adam’s arm when Adam doesn’t understand. Heath’s stomach growls angrily. His appetite has become insatiable now that he’s begun eating regularly.

“Do you want to have dinner with us?”

Heath is only able to read the word ‘dinner’ from Adam’s lips and figures out the rest for himself. He looks toward the multicolored Denver sky, mostly pink now that the sun’s rays are beginning to dwindle. Adam taps on his stomach to bring him out of his internal debate.

“My mom always makes a ton of food.”

Heath’s stomach cries out in agony. If he doesn’t agree to this meal he’s going to be welcomed by stale bread and peanut butter at home. He’s practically salivating at the thought of what a large family dinner might be like. He weighs out the pros and cons, trying not to think too heavily on how bad the cons may be. He sucks in a deep breath, gives Adam a smile and a quick nod.

………………………

Alyssa Kaiser is a short, olive skinned woman with wavy black hair. For most of his life, Adam has been told he bears a striking resemblance to his mother. Her eyes are constantly gentle; a soft brown color, with flecks of blue around her pupils. While she is mostly soft spoken and nurturing, both of her sons would be the first to say she’s never afraid to make her opinion be known.

Heath and Adam are sitting on the floor in front of the television when Alyssa comes through the door, her coat wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Heath reflexively shrinks back toward the end of Adam’s couch in an attempt to hide himself, while Adam jumps up to meet his mother in the entryway.

“That’s Heath, Mom.”

Alyssa eyes the small boy warily. “Why isn’t he saying anything?”

“Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you. He’s deaf.”

Adam’s mother nearly drops the groceries tucked under her arm. She gives Adam a stern look as though to say, ‘that isn’t a piece of information you just forget _Adam Malachi Kaiser_ ’, then turns her attention to the small boy attempting to hide in her living room. She smiles sweetly at Heath, who still hasn’t decided how to react to the situation. Then suddenly, to his surprise, Alyssa Kaiser begins to sign. A large, overwhelming smile floods Heath’s face. He looks utterly relieved and immediately responds to her, his hands gesturing wildly in excitement.

Adam suddenly feels a rush of jealousy course through his body. He folds his arms, looking back and forth between his mother and his best friend. He feels a bit guilty about being jealous, knowing that this is how Heath probably feels on a daily basis when people talk over him.

“What’s he saying?” Adam huffs in an annoyed tone.

Adam’s mother turns back toward him, smiling brightly in her normal fashion. “He said he’s very happy he met you.”

…………………….

In less than half an hour, the delicious and mouth-watering smell of fresh bread and pasta fills the Kaiser home. Heath and Adam are wrestling near the couch, where Alex is currently seated. He occasionally has to lift his feet so the two boys can tumble past him.

Heath’s stomach growls when he catches a strong whiff of the tomato basil sauce simmering in the kitchen. Due to this distraction, Adam tackles Heath to his back and pins his arms in place over the boy’s head.

“I win!”

Heath wriggles out from underneath him and finds his way to the kitchen just as Alyssa is calling out for them. Plates are served with generous portions of pasta and garlic bread. Heath is practically salivating by the time Adam’s mother takes her place at the head of the table. His skinny little fingers snatch a piece of bread and as he’s ready to devour it, Adam’s eyes widen. The boy shakes his head furiously and looks toward his mother who is signing the word _‘prayer.’_

Heath knows of what a prayer is, but he’s never said one before. He couldn’t begin to know what one sounded like. He looks toward Adam whose fingers are now entwined and his head bowed. Heath decides to mimic his actions. He keeps his eyes open, watching Alyssa’s lips move quickly. He can’t make out a word of what she’s saying. None of the words look like English.

Her eyes open suddenly and lock on Heath’s. He immediately drops his head, feeling guilty about watching her. He’s ready for her to send him away with a harsh word and a kick in the ass, when she gives him a soft smile and signs, _‘Eat.’_

Adam commits the sign to memory. He’d surprise Heath one day with all the signs he could learn. Until today, he had no idea that others could understand what Heath was doing with his hands. And above all, how did his _mother_ understand?

“How do you know what he’s saying when you uh-,” Adam makes an odd gesture with his hands that was meant to represent sign language.

Heath looks toward Alyssa with a bite of pasta in his mouth, a confused expression painting his features. It’s as though he were saying, _is he trying to say something to me?_

“It’s sign language, Adam. It’s a language like you and I are speaking right now.”

“Yeah, but how do _you_ know it?”

“You know that I teach disabled children at the school. I needed to learn to communicate with all my students.”

Adam pokes at his dinner idly with his fork. He sneaks a glance at Heath, who is eating as though his food may disappear if he doesn’t continue shoveling it into his mouth.

“Will you teach me?” He asks quietly.

She gives her son a proud smile and nods in absolute adoration.

…………………..

There’s something in the way that Heath shakily signs his farewell and thanks that gives Alyssa a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t understand why, but she feels uncomfortable watching the little boy disappear into the fading light of the Denver skyline. She shakes it off quietly, telling herself it’s nothing to worry over.

……………….

Heath tiptoes inside his home with the utmost care and stealth. He spots his mother, asleep on the couch with a needle in her hand. He’s learned not to disturb her in that state. With no sign of his father, Heath proudly makes his way toward his room. He opens the door happily, only to find his father waiting for him. The rosy pink color of Heath’s cheeks immediately drains from his face.

Michael Wallace is a large man, standing six foot one and weighing over two hundred pounds. He stands silently, making his way toward his son quivering in the doorway.

“Where have you been, boy? Too good to greet your old man when he comes home?”

Heath pretends he doesn’t understand. This earns him a nice smack to his left ear.

“You may not understand much but I’ve been told you aren’t stupid.” He crouches down so they’re now eye to eye. He grabs the front of Heath’s shirt, lifting it to his nose.

“Well, it looks like my cooking is too good for a little shit like you! Where did you beg for it this time?”

Heath looks toward the ground. His father growls in frustration before standing back up, towering over his son. He hits Heath across the cheek with so much force that he yelps in his tiny voice. Michael lets out a deep laugh, hitting him again to see if he would make the same sound.

“Never forget where you come from, boy. You’re worthless.”

Heath’s eyes burn from holding in his tears. He prides himself on not crying during his father’s beatings anymore. He watches his father walk back toward the living room, an evil glint in his eye. Heath doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling his father will regret this one day.


	3. Chapter 3

_Denver, CO. 1988._

_One year later._

 

Adam and Heath were inseparable the first year they had met each other. Hardly a day went by when they didn’t see each other. Heath began eating regularly with the Kaiser family, so much so that after a few months, he grew exponentially. His clothes started to fit awkwardly; his familiar jean jacket now too small to place around his shoulders. The moment Heath became taller than Adam, Alex had wordlessly come down from his room upstairs and placed a box of his old things in Heath’s hands.

 

The more time he spent away from home, Heath’s father became furious. His beatings were harsher and more brutal than ever before. However, the bigger Heath grew, his punishments became easier to withstand. Not long after, Heath and his father began to move around each other as though the other didn’t exist. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but Heath felt this was merely the calm before the storm.

 

Adam diligently practiced sign language with his mother for months, until he could properly hold a conversation with Heath. Often his diction was too formal, so Heath took the time to teach him simple, more casual signs.

 

It’s early April in Denver, and the snow has long since melted into the ground, only to be replaced by the rain.  It is a special occasion in the Kaiser home this evening; Adam Kaiser is now ten years old. The sound of laughter mixes with the gloomy percussion of the rain pattering on the leaves outside.

 

In addition to the multitude of presents Adam has opened this evening Heath receives one as well. It’s a new windbreaker, colored in a mixture of deep blues, appropriate for the weather currently raging outside.  

 

Adam nudges Heath with his foot, pointing toward the door and signing, ‘ _movies’._ For weeks now, the boys had talked Alex’s ears off about taking them to see _Who Framed Roger Rabbit_ and now they were finally getting to go. Heath, however, had eaten so much cake that he could hardly be roused by the _idea_ of going to the movies.

 

“Tell him there will be popcorn at the theater.” Alex muttered, idly glancing at his watch.

 

As Adam signs the word popcorn, Heath springs to his feet and zips up his new windbreaker, pulling the hood up to shield himself from the downpour outside. The three boys head through the garage and pile into Alex’s car, waving to Alyssa Kaiser who watches them pull away.

 

For some reason, she has a sickening feeling that she’s being watched.

……………………..

Alyssa Kaiser decides to clean the kitchen after merely sitting and watching television did nothing to calm her odd sense of paranoia. Her home is so unusually quiet without the boys around; the silence hangs heavy over her shoulders.

 

The sound of water dripping from the kitchen faucet makes her shiver suddenly. She scolds herself for being so jumpy, and then sets to work on the pile of dishes now stuffed into her sink. 

 

Just as she’s finished drying the last dish and placing it into the cupboard, her front door swings open. She had forgotten to lock it.

………………………

 

In the middle of the movie, Heath leans over and taps Alex on the shoulder and then gestures to his wrist as though he were wearing a watch. Alex smiles and holds up eight fingers. For a moment, Heath is frozen with the familiar feeling of fear. He thinks of his father, most likely waiting for him at home. His stomach churns.

 

Adam nudges Heath’s elbow, points up to the screen and starts to laugh. Suddenly, Heath feels better.

…………………….

 

“My son. Where is he?”

 

The intruder is drunk, swaying and stumbling forward as he speaks. The man looks as though he hasn’t showered in days and smells just as badly; a combination of sweat and cheap beer. His eyes are bloodshot and his hands are shaking. Not only is the man drunk, he’s high on something.

 

“Michael Wallace.” He extends his arm, holding out his hand as though he expected Alyssa to shake it. “Where is my son?”

 

Despite the fear coursing through her veins, Alyssa lets out a short laugh. Michael Wallace stutters backward in surprise.

 

“Heath is your _son?_ That boy is more my son than he is yours.”

 

With a nasty snarl, Michael Wallace fumbles with his back pocket and pulls out a hunting knife, flipping it open and pointing it towards her. Alyssa attempts to reach behind her for the phone hanging on the wall but Michael stops her.

 

“Don’t bother. Once I’m done with him _and_ you, I’ll call the police myself. Now where is he, bitch?”

 

Alyssa says nothing, only laughs despite the situation. She knows she won’t make it out of this alive, but if she could save the little boy she’s grown to care for then so be it. With one, well placed blow to the cheek, Alyssa falls to the kitchen floor. Michael Wallace plunges his knife into her stomach, grunting in the amount of effort it takes out of him. She begins to say a prayer for her two boys as she feels her own blood pool around her.

 

With her last breath, she says one for Heath Wallace as well.

…………………

 

The rain is still coming down steadily when the boys make their way back home. Alex parks his mother’s car in the driveway and reaches into his pocket to retrieve his keys to the front door. As he looks to find the lock, he realizes the door is already partially open.

 

“Adam, you and Heath stay back for a minute.”

 

“Alex, what’s-“

 

Alex puts his finger to his lips and motions for Adam and Heath to stay put. He nudges the front door open with his foot and slowly slips inside, looking for any signs of a break in. He calls out for his mother, but there’s no answer. As he’s turning the corner to the kitchen, he notices a stream of blood running on to the carpet. It’s there that he finds his mother.

 

He lets out a noise of utter despair, crying out for help, which sends the two smaller boys running inside. Adam feels as though he’s been kicked in the stomach. He drops to his knees as he sees his mother, pale and lifeless. He sobs, covering his body with hers as though if he touched her it may bring her back.

 

Heath is not staring at the body, but the oh so familiar design of his father’s hunting knife, covered in blood lying next to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was one of the highest grossing movies in 1988.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Red and blue lights dance across Alexander Kaiser’s face. He stares at the squad car ahead of him, parked along their curb. There are two officers beside it, idly discussing something that doesn’t look as important as the messy crime scene that the others are viewing inside.

 

Heath is trying his best to hide behind Alex. Every once in a while he looks over the older boy’s shoulder, only to catch a glimpse of his father, handcuffed in the backseat. He quickly ducks down again.

 

Adam is sobbing next to his brother. He’s been inconsolable for hours. His sleeve is partially wet from rain, but also from using it as a tissue.

 

“What will we do, Alex?” He says between tears. “What do we do?”

 

Alex knows his brother is talking of the future. He can’t think that far ahead. He stares at the man who has just murdered his mother. The man stares straight back. Suddenly, Alex rises from his place underneath the porch. Heath scrambles away, trying to stay hidden.

 

Alex can feel himself shaking with anger, but his stride is confident. Rain patters on his skin, soaking his clothes to the bone. He doesn’t notice. When he’s right in front of the police car, he reaches inside the passenger window to roll down the window in the backseat. Michael Wallace sneers at him. Alex, unafraid, sneers back.

 

“Ikh hob dir in drerd.” Alex says through clenched teeth, before spitting in the man’s face.

 

The officers grab him when they notice, but they don’t scold him.

…………………….

It takes another half hour before a woman from Child Protective Services arrives. The boys are all still shivering in the rain, too afraid to go inside. She slowly approaches them, doing her best to warm them with a gentle smile. But her eyes say too much. She’s never been in this situation before. She has no idea what to say.

 

“Which one of you is Heath Wallace?”

 

Adam tries his best to clear his nose before he says, “Who are _you_?” but it still sounds as though he has a cold.

 

“My name is Linda Baron, from Child Protective Services.” She tries her best to sound inviting, but even she knows that her title is none too pleasant.

 

Alex feels his skin turn pale and clammy. He hadn’t thought about what may happen to Heath up until this point.

 

“What does that mean? Alex, what does she want?”

Alex takes a deep breath and looks into his brother’s wet, brown eyes. “She’s going to take Heath somewhere safe. A better place to live than where he is now. You want that right?”

 

Adam looks utterly shocked. He looks over his shoulder toward Heath, who is completely lost in the entire situation.

 

“What are you talking about? He’s staying with us at grandma and grandpa’s house! Tell her, Alex!”

 

Alex looks up at Linda Baron. She’s giving him an encouraging smile, to help him along. He needs to rip the band-aid; let Adam know the terrible truth right away. He may be the horrible big brother for a while, but it was only temporary. Wasn’t it?

 

“Heath can’t stay with us, Adam. But this woman is going to take great care of him, I promise.”

 

Adam balls his fists tightly into his wet jeans. “This isn’t _fair_! I just learned how to talk to him! He’s going to be so lost with her. No one will understand him!”

 

Alex sighs and runs a quick hand through his mop-like curls. He looks toward the child services agent, who has a confused look on her face.

 

“Heath is deaf. Adam has been learning sign language for the past year.”

 

Linda Baron’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. “Oh. No one told me-well…the officers didn’t mention that he was deaf.”

 

“You see, Alex? They didn’t even send someone who knew how to communicate with him.”

 

Adam may as well have said that he hated his brother. Alex supposed he could live with that for now. He watches Adam uncross his legs and run down toward the street to sit on the mailbox; his preferred place for thinking. Heath is not far behind him.

 

“They must be close.” Linda Baron says in her soft voice.

 

Alex doesn’t respond, just watches the two boys clamber on to the mailbox and begin signing to one another. He doesn’t want to believe that it may be the last time he witnesses one of their conversations.

…………………………….

 

 _‘What’s going on?’_ Heath signs first. He glances behind them. The woman is still there with Alex, now with a bundle of papers under her arm. Alex looks angry again.

 

‘ _That woman is taking you away.’_

 

Heath frowns. _‘Away? Where?’_

 

Adam shrugs, trying to secretly wipe his tears with his sleeve. The rain has finally dwindled into a light sprinkle, but the boys still shivered in the cold.

 

‘ _I don’t think I’m going to see you again.’_

Heath takes his friend’s hand and squeezes, shaking his head. ‘ _I’ll see you again soon.’_

………………….

 

It’s rather amazing what a competent lawyer and an insanity plea will do for you in the American justice system. Michael Wallace spun the most sympathetic web of lies a jury could ever possibly hear. “My son had been missing for hours”, “That woman was keeping my son from me”, “I was drunk I didn’t know what I was doing”. In the end, Michael Wallace was sentenced to ten years in jail as long as he agreed to engage in therapy while incarcerated.

 

Heath’s mother, Alex found out later, had also been arrested for possession of drugs and was currently in rehab. Heath on the other hand, had completely disappeared. Neither Adam nor Alex heard one word of him throughout the entire process. Alex figured that perhaps due to the ruling on his father’s trial, Child Protective Services were attempting to keep his whereabouts a secret.

 

“I’m sorry, Adam. If I could have done something…well, you know I would have, right?”

 

Adam doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t made a sound in months. Alex sighs and grips the steering wheel a bit tighter, checking his watch to see how late they’d be getting home. He glances at the date, partially covered by the long hand of his watch.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, buddy I completely forgot. Happy Birthday.”

 

Without looking away from the window, Adam replies, “Don’t ever say that to me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ikh hob dir in drerd-Hebrew for "Go to hell"


	5. Chapter 5

When Heath was fourteen, his mother passed away in rehab. An overdose, the woman in the foster home had told him. Heath had merely shrugged his shoulders and bought the newspaper the next day, looking for her eulogy. There was an article about the overdose. Apparently an employee had been selling drugs to patients for twice what they were worth and along with Heath’s mother, two others had died. The newspaper used a picture of her from many years ago when her face wasn’t so sullen and wrinkled. Heath felt no sense of loss at all. He hardly recognized her.

 

At eighteen, Heath moved out of the foster home and left Denver. He rented out a small, dingy one-bedroom apartment in Colorado Springs and got a job as a busboy at a local diner.

 

He never forgot his father in prison and continued to count down the days until he was free. When that day came, Heath knew that it would be the last time he set foot in Denver.

………………….

_Denver, CO. 1999._

 

Heath received a letter earlier in the week from the Denver Correctional Facility stating that his father was being released from prison five days from when the letter arrived and wanted to know if he’d be picking him up.

 

Heath never responded. But at the end of the week, he climbed into his ‘78 Buick Riviera and drove back to that old, familiar neighborhood he spent so much time wandering around as a child. He stops at the house at the end of the street, the one with the red door. His father’s car is parked in the driveway.

………………..

Adam Kaiser checks the date on his watch, taps the glass face and reads it again. Today is his twenty-first birthday. There’s a box on his counter that came in the mail from his brother a month prior, filled with expensive gifts and a bottle of scotch. Since they’d gone their separate ways, Alex had taken it upon himself to send Adam gifts either a month before or a month after his actual birthday. He seemed to think this was a better alternative than not celebrating his brother’s actual birthday like Adam had asked him to.

 

Adam rolls out of bed, hitting his knee on his nightstand like he does on most mornings. He curses and shoves the piece of furniture into the wall.  As he’s rubbing his knee, he shuffles into his small kitchen and unscrews the top to his bottle of scotch before pouring himself a glass.

 

“A balanced breakfast.” He says to himself, laughing at his own joke.

 

He thinks of his mother as the scotch burns down his throat. It’s been eleven years since she had been murdered. Ten since the bastard had been put away.

 

Ten years.

 

Adam slams his glass into the sink, wincing when the glass shatters. He grabs his car keys from his room, not bothering to run a comb through his hair.

 

He knows he isn’t thinking clearly. What sort of good could possibly come of going to see his mother’s murderer? It didn’t matter. If only he could just yell at the man; hit him once and speak his mind, maybe then he could have closure.

 

He hadn’t been to his old neighborhood since the day he and Alex moved to their grandparents’. As Adam looks up the Wallace residence in the phonebook, he thinks fondly of his childhood friend, probably far away from his dark past.

……………………..

It doesn’t take much shoving to bust in his father’s door. The force from Heath’s shoulder makes the wood splinter around the hinges, making the door open with a loud groan.

 

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

 

Michael Wallace, now a withered middle-aged man, shakily stands to meet his intruder. A taller and much stronger version of the son he left ten years ago.

 

“I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”

 

Heath’s nostrils flare angrily as he watches his father’s lips curl over his teeth. He can make out the words just barely, but he isn’t there to talk.

 

Michael Wallace reaches into his back pocket and flips open a hunting knife, nearly identical to the one he murdered Alyssa Kaiser with.  Heath snarls, lunging forward just as his father swipes through the air with his knife. Heath grasps his father’s wrist and twists with all the strength he has in him. The knife clatters to the floor and Michael Wallace’s wrist snaps underneath the pressure. A devilishly wild grin appears on Heath’s face as he feels the bone break beneath his fingers.

 

Heath wrestles his father to the ground, stomping on his now broken wrist just to watch the man writhe in pain. He wished desperately to hear his cries for mercy.

 

He reaches down for the discarded knife, waving it in front of his father’s eyes, before slowly sinking the blade into the soft skin of his stomach. Michael Wallace coughs and sputters, staring into his son’s cold eyes.

 

“How do you feel….huh? Better?”

 

Heath growls, twisting the knife deeper. “Justified.”

………………….

 

Adam nervously reaches for a cigarette in his pocket when he pulls to the curb of the Wallace residence. It takes him a few tries to light it, but when he does, a nice sense of relaxation floods his bloodstream. He takes a deep breath and pulls the keys from the ignition, opening and closing his car door as quietly as possible.

 

He slowly makes his way to the front door, looking both ways several times to make sure no one is watching him. When he reaches the door, he realizes it’s already open. He taps the door with his foot, making it creak in protest. Adam winces and steps inside slowly.

 

"Hello?"

 

To his left, towards the kitchen, he can hear sobbing. Low and uncontrollable sobbing. Adam carefully moves toward the sound, slipping off his shoes so he could move silently. When he turns toward the kitchen, he sees a figure covered in blood, hunched over Michael Wallace’s dead body.

 

As Adam gets closer, he sees the familiar color of copper curls and a tiny scar around the figure’s left ear from where he’d been scratched by his father’s ring.

 

Adam is now close enough to tap the man on the shoulder. He gently does so, immediately stepping back so as not to startle him. The man whips his head around, staring Adam straight in the face, tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

Though he’s many years older, Adam can clearly see the skinny, eight year-old Heath Wallace in those blue eyes.

 

_'What happened?_ ' Adam slowly signs after a moment. He hasn’t signed in years, and finds it difficult to do so.

 

Heath looks up at his old friend, smiling sadly. Adam can see small speckles of blood on his tear-stained cheeks.

 

‘ _I killed him.’_

 

Adam takes a deep breath and slides down the wall to sit next to Heath. The two meet eyes and begin to laugh at the insanity of the situation. Heath sighs deeply, looking toward the ground.

 

“I’ll get life for this,” Heath says so suddenly that Adam jumps. “Pre-meditated homicide.”

 

Adam starts to shake his head without knowing what he’s doing. This murder was just. It should have happened years ago. Before he can stop himself, Adam signs ‘ _Hide the B-O-D-Y.’_


	6. Chapter 6

When Adam says to hide the body, he has no sort of plan in mind. He isn’t a murderer. He has no idea where the smartest place to hide a body would be. As he’s dragging Michael Wallace’s body by the ankles toward the garage, he catches Heath staring at his father’s old ice fishing drill.

 

He’s never ice fished before, but by the look on Heath’s face, he would say that his friend has once or twice. Adam thinks of the small, frozen lake an hour west of Denver in the small county of Georgetown. He’d used his inheritance money to buy drugs once or twice, and then drove to the lake to smoke by himself. It was peaceful, and more importantly deserted, especially at this time of night.

 

 _‘G-R-A-B that,’_ Adam signs, pointing to the drill.

 

Heath does, the gears in his head beginning to turn in sync with Adam’s. Heath carefully places the tool in the backseat of his car before turning back to his father’s body. It’s gone cold in between the time it took the two of them to clean the blood spatter in the kitchen. Heath grabs his father’s ankles, nodding to Adam to grab his arms. Adam takes a deep breath, grasps the body’s forearms, and lifts. His eyes meet Heath’s as they throw the bloodied bastard into the back of his trunk. There’s a hint of a smile across Heath’s mouth.

 

 _‘You’re so F-U-C-K-E-D up.’_ Adam signs with a grin.

 

Adam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel happy with the day’s events. And when Heath looks over at him from over the car, he feels right somehow. Justified, perhaps.

……………………….

 

Adam and Heath reach Georgetown around eleven at night. Even in April, there’s a slight chill in the air. Adam thinks about the cigarettes in his breast pocket. His fingers are itching for one, but he knows better than to light one right now. The lake is vacant, from what he can tell, but even the smallest bit of light could call attention to them.

 

There’s a small break in the barbed wire fence around the lake. Heath switches off his headlights before parking in front of it and popping the trunk. Adam surveys his surroundings before getting out of the car. Nothing but darkness for miles. In the distance he can see the ghosts of the Denver skyline, but just barely. He reaches into the trunk and takes ahold of Michael Wallace’s ankles, pulling as hard as he can until the body drops to the gravel road. Blood oozes out of his wounds from the impact. Adam gags.

 

Heath walks around the back of the car, the drill slung over his shoulder. He blinks a few times in the dark, hoping his eyes will adjust quicker.

 

‘ _H-E-L-P?’_ Heath manages to sign with one hand. Adam shakes his head, jerking his head toward the fence. Heath goes on ahead, widening the opening so Adam can drag the body through.

 

When Heath reaches the lake, he taps on the ice with his foot. It isn’t very thick, given the weather, so he won’t have to drill very far. When Adam finally reaches Heath’s side, he’s out of breath and has broken out in a cold sweat. He wants nothing more than to drop this bastard through the ice.

 

Heath grabs the drill, grips the handles in his tight fists. He looks at his father’s lifeless body, then to Adam, who is giving him an encouraging nod.

 

“I’m sorry.” He says aloud.

 

‘ _For what?’_   Adam quickly signs back, swiveling his head back and forth. Waiting around in the cold is beginning to make him anxious.

 

‘ _For getting you into this mess. What were you doing there anyway?’_

Adam laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He thinks about how determined he was this morning; ready to tear into the fucking prick that _was_ Heath’s father. He wouldn’t have made it out alive if Heath hadn’t been there first.

 

‘ _I was planning on cussing him out. You had the better idea.’_

 

Heath chuckles, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiles. It shouldn’t be so simple between them. Things should be more complicated than ever. But it isn’t.

 

Heath tells Adam to stand back as he starts up the drill. When he’s finished, the two take ahold of each ankle, dropping the body into the perfectly shaped hole. They watch Heath’s father disappear into the abyss, the water bubbling as he goes. Heath stands perfectly still, though his body doesn’t seem as rigid. He finally begins to feel at ease.

 

Adam is about to ask if Heath was all right, when the startling noise of someone clapping makes him whirl around.

 


End file.
